


Fortune Ticket

by Book_buried_Batter



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Batter kinda got his ass kicked, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trans!Batter, hes pretty beat up, title has nothing to do with the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 01:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10426521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_buried_Batter/pseuds/Book_buried_Batter
Summary: The Batter gets hurt a lot, but this time, it was too bad to leave him to deal with it himself. Zacharie decides that, since his puppeteer has abandoned him for the day, he'll help the poor man recover.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit of an au, I guess? It's my own versions of the characters, so the Batter is like, super ooc. He's a huge dork, even though he's very short. In this su, the red and yellow boxes aren't automatic heals, they just have bandages n stuff in them, so it's kinda hard to take care of yourself when you're bleeding out at the foot of some stairs.

When his eyes fluttered open, he was being held gently by strong arms, his head resting against someone's shoulder. Almost instantly, he began to cough, his ribs aching and his chest burning like it was on fire. He felt something hot fly from his throat and land on his lip and when he licked it, he could taste copper. He was coughing up blood, he realized, and began to panic. He suddenly started to flail, attempting to free himself from the person that was holding him. As he struggled, pain overtook his body, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. In an instant, he was set back on his feet, but an arm stayed firmly around his shoulder, holding him up when his legs started to fail.  
As he looked to the ground, he saw the gashes in his chest, startlingly close to his neck. His fight with Dedan came back in a rush and it made him feel faint. That's when the other hand of his captor was set under his chin, lifting it to look him in the eyes. He found himself looking into the eye sockets of a mask then, its deep, curved frown ending at its rosy cheeks. The dark eyes behind it held a look of worry.  
Zacharie. As soon as the Batter saw who it was, he fell against him, whimpering and grabbing onto the thick wool of his sweater. He could hear the voice above him saying, “Oh, Batter…” Then he was lifted up again, now relaxing against the form of the other. “Stay still, mi amigo… you're hurt badly, I'm going help.” His heavy accent with his smooth voice was soothing, the Batter had to admit. He let his head rest on the man's shoulder again, pressing one arm against his own stomach in an attempt to lessen the bleeding in at least one of the gashes.

He wasn't sure what happened, but suddenly they were in Zacharie’s office in the park. He was behind his desk, carefully opening a door in the wall. The Batter was confused, but didn't feel like he had the strength to question him out loud. Once they managed to get in the room, the Batter saw that it was, in fact, Zacharie’s bedroom. He didn't know why he was surprised. He knew the merchant had to have somewhere more permanent to sleep than a mat he'd put on the ground. Carefully, the masked man moved to set him on the bed. “You… may want to stay sitting up, though… I need to get those clothes off of you, mi amigo…” The Batter sat back only a little, leaning back on his hands and gripping onto the bed sheets. Zacharie set his pack down and pulled some items out of it, setting them on the bedside table. Then, he reached forward and took the edge of the Batter’s shirts, starting to tug them up.  
When there was no protest from the shorter man, Zacharie began to peel both his jersey and his black undershirt off of him, mumbling something in Spanish. He was as careful as he could be, but when he started to touch the wounds, the Batter started whining in pain. He finished quickly, pulling the clothing over his head at last and taking his hat with them. This revealed the last shredded article; His binder. The half-shirt was practically about to fall off, it was so badly damaged. When he saw it, Zacharie’s eyes flashed with understanding. He didn't say anything, but he let out a small “oooh”. He got up again to rummage in his bag and once he sat on the bed again, the Batter could see he was holding a knife. Before the redhead could panic, Zacharie spoke. “Está arruinado… It's shredded anyway… I thought it… might be easier to cut it off, sí?” He'd seen that it had hurt the man to raise his arms. In response, he nodded, eyes tracking the serrated blade as it was brought closer to his skin. Carefully, the flat of the blade was slipped between the tight fabric and his pale skin. The merchant turned it outward slowly, pulling the blade out against a rip. It wasn't long before the fabric gave and instinctively, the Batter took a deep breath, but winced when he did.  
They both found that it was, in fact, much easier to remove the binder, only having to slip it back over his shoulders and down his arms. After that, Zacharie made quick work of cleaning and dressing the wounds, carefully placing his hands on the Batter’s shoulders and pushing him back onto the bed. Almost instantly, his eyes fell closed. The pain and the effort to sit up had left him exhausted and Zacharie thought rest like that would do him good. The Batter was too tired to even notice the merchant was still in the room, let alone when he slipped his mask up just past his lips, softly pressing them to the man's forehead. As he quietly moved to the door, he whispered, “Descansa tranquilo, amigo…” but it may as well have been to no one; the Batter was already asleep.

When the Batter woke again, Zacharie was sitting next to the bed, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had evidently removed the Batter’s shoes and covered him up to his chest with a soft blanket, which the redhead very much appreciated. “Zach…?” He whispered. The merchant's eyes flew open at the sound of his name. It looked like he hadn't really been asleep. His eyes squinted up behind his mask and somehow, the Batter knew he was smiling. “Hola, Batter…” His voice was low and gentle. He shifted from the chair he was resting in to the edge of the bed, his hand slowly moving to touch the Batter’s hair. In return, the smaller man's hand came up to gently rest on his wrist, but he didn't push the masked man away. “Of all colors, it's red…” Zacharie began to run his fingers through the locks, watching the Batter relax as he did. Slowly, his hand dropped back onto the sheets, Zacharie’s own moving to the Batter’s cheek. “And you have those… little dots all over...”  
“My freckles…?” The Batter asked awkwardly, suddenly realizing the closeness of them both.  
“Freckles…” Zacharie repeated, mesmerized. They shared another moment of almost happy calmness before the Batter brought his hand up again, but this time, his fingers rested on the edge of Zacharie’s mask.  
“You know… Now you've seen my face…”  
“...It would be fair for you to see mine…?” When the Batter nodded, Zacharie closed his eyes and sighed. He gently pushed the smaller man's hand away, his own wrapping around both sides of his mask. Hesitantly, he slid it up and off of his face revealing thick, black eyebrows pulled together with worry. His flawless skin was only interrupted by slight imperfections at the corners of his mouth; a small string of stitches on either side. It was only three or four each, tugging down a little as he frowned.  
The Batter had never been stunned into silence before that moment. All he could do was stare, his mouth slightly agape. Once again, neither of them were speaking, but Zacharie looked rather uncomfortable. The Batter forced himself to sit up, gently taking Zacharie’s face with both his hands, the skin squishing slightly under the weight of them and making Zacharie look almost chubby. He couldn't help but laugh slightly at that, the merchant’s lips curving up into a smile. He had never heard the Batter laugh before. The Batter stopped pressing so hard and Zacharie’s face returned to normal.  
“You're very handsome…” The redhead couldn't stop the comment, but he really didn't want to.  
In response, Zacharie turned away, but his smile didn't leave. “You are just saying that to be nice…”  
“No I'm not, I really think so. I wouldn't say something I don't mean.”  
Another pause, then, “Do you think they would feel strange?”  
“What would?” The Batter tilted his head a little, but the answer didn't come in the form of words. Suddenly, he felt soft lips press against his own, Zacharie’s hand very gently resting on his side. At first, the Batter wasn't sure what to do. He was more confused than anything, wondering what had come over the merchant. A few seconds later, though, he started to kiss the man back. He could hardly even feel the stitches in the sides of his mouth.  
When Zacharie finally pulled away, both of them had relaxed, Zacharie slowly leaning forward to get the Batter to lay down again. Both still smiling, Zacharie started to get up and the Batter didn't stop him. He hardly heard the merchant mention that he would bring back some food, but he saw him pull his mask back on as he went for the door. He nodded, but didn't really understand why. The Batter was asleep again before Zacharie came back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I'm aware the formatting is a nightmare, it's the most I can do from a phone


End file.
